


whispers in the hideout (secrets between us)

by likeabomb



Series: Datekou Week 2021 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, Gen, Selectively Mute Aone Takanobu, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 13:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30072762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeabomb/pseuds/likeabomb
Summary: Aone and Futakuchi have been friends since they were young. One spoke to little, the other too much. But they were always the first to know each other's secrets.
Relationships: Aone Takanobu & Futakuchi Kenji
Series: Datekou Week 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2211909
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14
Collections: Datekou Week 2021





	whispers in the hideout (secrets between us)

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2 of Datekou Week, "Second Years"  
> (and I guess also Day 1's "Childhood Friends")
> 
> This fic deals a lot with Aone's childhood selective mutism, and his friendship with Futakuchi.
> 
> There's also mention of pregnancy in this, Futakuchi's mom is expecting.

“Are you dumb?”

Looking up from the little metal toy car he’s driving through the rubber mulch, Aone’s face scrunches tight. His eyebrows would be squashed together, but he doesn’t actually have any. Which Futakuchi also thinks is pretty funny, apparently. He said so the first time they met.

“Cuz you can’t talk,” Futakuchi clarifies, looking him over.

Eyes skirt away from Futakuchi’s face, settling instead on the sway of the swing just left abandoned by one of the other children.

“I can talk,” Futakuchi states.

Aone knows. He talks a lot.

Lips tug hard in a pout and he grips his toy car, bringing it close to his chest when he shifts enough to lean against his knees, almost hiding behind them. They’re secluded enough that he doesn’t feel like he needs to move away, or make himself smaller, but he still can’t speak up. 

They’re both wearing little green hats, which makes them easy to spot. They’re in the same classroom, and are here spending some time in the park. He doesn’t sit near Futakuchi in their classroom, but the other boy always finds him and wriggles his way into Aone’s space and chatters away about his toys and a worm he saw on the sidewalk and how he pinched his finger in the door that morning.

He likes Futakuchi, but now he’s sad.

Most of the other children avoid him. They either think he’s scary looking, calling him an oni, or they think he’s mad at them because he won’t talk. Mad, or dumb. And now Futakuchi thinks he’s dumb too.

Aone withdraws.

If he’d spoken up, said something, stopped being scary- maybe Futakuchi and him could have been friends, but now Futakuchi hates him.

And it’s still not enough to get him to speak. 

It is, however, enough to get the hot stinging feeling in his eyes, and his throat tight. It’s a feeling he knows a little too well, and he hates. It means he’s going to cry, which usually means even more mean words.

Before Futakuchi can see, Aone buries his face in his knees. His shoulders shake, but he bites his lip so he won’t hear him. It’s a solid plan, and one that might have worked, if Futakuchi wasn’t sitting within arm’s reach, playing with his little super sentai toy. He’s green, which is the best, as far as Futakuchi has stated.

A hand lands heavy on his head, and Aone looks up at the touch, eyes glassy.

Futakuchi’s face is scrunched up, “Don’t cry.”

He says it like a command.

Aone sniffles once, and Futakuchi pushes his toy into his hand. He doesn’t say anything else, just huffs as he sits next to him rather than across from him.

Blinking tears away, scrubbing at his stinging eyes, Aone looks at the toy in his hand. He tries to offer it back to Futakuchi and he shakes his head. He refuses to take it, and instead gets up to run off to the swings and Aone watches as he pumps his legs so hard he thinks he might go over the top of the swingset.

When he’s not going  _ quite  _ so high, he jumps off the swing, buries his feet in the rubber mulch and comes racing back to crouch in front of Aone. He’s wearing a disgruntled scowl.

“Nobody’s gonna call you dumb and get away with it again.”

He stares in confusion.

Maybe Futakuchi doesn’t hate him?

Aone’s not the best at knowing what people want and feel, and easily gets overwhelmed thinking he’s in trouble with strangers and peers, but Futakuchi saw he was upset, and decided to change himself. Just like that.

“You take care of him.”

Looking down at the sentai toy in his hand, Aone moves a finger to lift one of his arms in a raised fist.

Futakuchi grins, wide and warm, and maybe a little sharp.

He’s never far after that. Physically or metaphorically.

He’s the first person to come in with an arm swinging when people surround Aone and he hides his face, too overwhelmed to do more than take the barrage of insults. In hindsight the insults aren’t much, but they’re children, and Aone is a child, so those words hurt.

He sits with Aone at lunch even though they should sit in their own seats. Their teacher knows, but doesn’t scold them for it. Sometimes they even share a piece of shokupan Futakuchi sneaks from home.

Futakuchi becomes a staple in Aone’s life, in and out of school.

They walk together, meeting up at one of the corners with other kids who live in their neighborhood, and Futakuchi walks him all the way to his own home, even though Aone knows it’s out of his way to do so.

It’s on a chilly spring morning that Futakuchi invites him over to spend the night, and Aone stands, squirms, and worries the hem of his shirt in his hands.

Futakuchi almost relents before Aone nods a few times. The glee in his face is infectious.

Even then, when he’s never spoken a word to him, they’re best friends.

They exchange the information their parents will need, and a couple days later, Aone’s mother walks with him to the Futakuchi residence.

His mother, and Futakuchi’s parents, all sit in the other room to talk. Aone sits on the edge of the genkan where his mother had asked him to stay for now. Futakuchi, who doesn’t have to, sits with him. Aone thinks he likes hearing the adults talk.

“Taka-chan is selectively mute. It’s an anxiety disorder,” his mother explains. She’s not shy about it. Being open with others about it will keep Aone as safe as he can be when he’s away from her. “He doesn’t speak unless he feels safe, and right now, the only place he feels safe enough to speak is our own home. So, please understand if he doesn’t answer you verbally. Kenji-chan has been a good friend for my son, and I know this means a lot to them. I want him to have a good childhood, and if he trusts Kenji-chan enough to want to stay overnight, I want to encourage that.”

They talk for a few more minutes before his mother asks, “Are you sure he won’t be trouble?”

“It’s alright, Aone-san, we’re happy to have him. Kenji-kun asked us first, and we agreed, so we don’t mind.”

Aone’s mother crouches down in front of him after she slips her shoes on, smiling gently. He smiles for her in return. They sign back and forth, and Futakuchi watches with rapt attention.

“Be good. You can come home if you’re scared. Have a good time.”

“I will,” Aone signs his promise.

True to his mother’s warning, Aone doesn’t say a single word when he’s there, but Futakuchi’s parents are kind to him.

He understands his mother’s insistence that he wouldn’t be trouble. Futakuchi’s mother is expecting a baby.

Aone is on his best behavior knowing that.

Nobody presses him to answer verbally, and he doesn’t end up having to hide. 

He has dinner, and he and Futakuchi end up making a fort to hide in.

In the quiet of their hideout, Futakuchi lays on his back, shining a flashlight through the sheet draped above them. He confesses quietly, “I don’t know if I want to have a sibling.”

Aone blinks sideways at him, turning his head to look at him. He tries his best to make as much eye contact with Futakuchi as he can.

“That’s why mom’s belly is big, you know. I’ll have a sibling soon.”

He glances at Aone and purses his lips, “I’m  _ not _ scared.”

Aone’s eyes trace the lines of his face and Futakuchi relents a little, “Okay, maybe I am. I don’t want... “ He can’t finish the thought and flicks the flashlight on and off irritably. “Do you think the baby will like me? I’ve seen babies, they don’t like anything.”

Blinking at him, Aone gives Futakuchi a small, amused smile. Futakuchi smiles back, but it’s smaller than his usual grin. He’s worried.

Even without noticeable brows, Aone’s expression shifts to something questioning and Futakuchi’s face reddens, even in the dim light of the flashlight he keeps waving around. He goes quiet, but Aone doesn’t press the issue.

“I don’t want them to forget about me,” Futakuchi admits, in the dark of their secret space.

Aone feels a pang of sadness in his chest, and slowly turns his head to look at his friend beside him. Futakuchi tries to make eye contact, but he’s too upset. His eyes are shiny. Aone’s never seen Futakuchi cry.

“They love you.”

Futakuchi’s head turns to the side quickly, staring at him with wide eyes.

Aone’s never spoken a word to him, but hidden away here, with him, he feels safe. And this is important, even if it’s hard to will himself through the wall he always feels.

“Your parents love you, Kenji-kun.”

The quiet of the room only makes the noise of Futakuchi swallowing sound that much louder. He flicks the light off and rolls over, burying his face in Aone’s shoulder. He quakes, and Aone feels his shoulder dampen.

He reaches a hand out to rub his friend’s arm before rolling onto his side in return to face him and ruffle his hair a little like his big brother does to him when he’s overwhelmed.

Aone talks more after that, and every time he does, Futakuchi’s face lights up. Sometimes it’s on the walk to or from school, about the dinner he had the night before, or his tablemate during class being disruptive. Futakuchi always talks more than Aone, but if Aone didn’t like listening to him, he wouldn’t be here to begin with.

Futakuchi-san has her baby on a rainy day a month later, and Futakuchi’s dad brings him over to Aone’s house while they do… whatever it is they do. 

Futakuchi doesn’t actually talk much this time, but Aone sits next to him and they watch cartoons until dinner.

“It’ll be just fine, Kenji-kun,” Aone’s sister Mizuri ruffles Futakuchi’s hair. He pouts up at her. “I did this  _ twice _ , I know.”

“Kenji-kun doesn’t have any siblings, or cousins, so he’s worried.”

Mizuri laughs, a light sound Aone really likes, and rubs Futakuchi’s back a little, “You’ll see.”

She leaves the two of them be, and Aone watches her go. He doesn’t move from Futakuchi’s side.

Mizuri is the eldest of the three of them, and she’s eight years Aone’s senior. Their brother, the middle child, is five years Aone’s senior. His name is Kaito. When he gets home, he’s sporting a new scrape on his knee and elbow. Mizuri helps him clean them up and slap bandages on them. It happens a lot.

Kaito thinks he’s the biggest and smartest person, and nobody really argues, but Mizuri might actually be the biggest and smartest person.

At dinner, Futakuchi ends up spilling over fat tears while he eats, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge them. Aone rests his head sideways on his shoulder when he isn’t eating.

They sleep curled up in Aone’s bed under the same blanket.

The morning is misty and the sun is barely up when there’s a gentle knock at the door that rouses his father. Peeking out of his room, he sees Futakuchi’s father at the door.

Futakuchi-san asks if his son can walk with Aone to school this morning. He says they now have a daughter who they’ve named Akiko. Aone ducks back into his room, knowing at that point he knows a secret he shouldn’t yet.

Climbing back into bed doesn’t disturb Futakuchi, and he pulls the blanket over their heads to chase away the morning chill. 

The walk to school is cold, and they laugh about still being able to see their breath. The school year is almost over, and while Futakuchi doesn’t mention it, Aone knows he’s got his family on his mind. Their day ends up being uneventful.

When it’s time to go home though, Futakuchi doesn’t walk with Aone to the meeting spot, and even further out of his way to see Aone to his door. Instead, he grabs hold of the straps of his bag and takes off towards his own home.  Aone is glad to see him go. He hopes seeing his little sister will help him feel better about it.

A week later, Aone gets to meet her, and Futakuchi proudly proclaims himself the best big brother ever because she stops crying when he leans over her and smiles, so she must really like him.

She doesn’t even cry when she sees Aone.

He tears up a little because of it and sits on the steps with Futakuchi and shares a thick slice of shokupan.

# # # # #  


“Taka-chaaaan,” Akiko calls, waving from the gate.

Lifting a hand, Aone smiles for her, lifting his voice enough to be heard, “Good morning, Aki-chan.”

She races back inside and he hears the door shut. He waits at the gate, as he always does when Futakuchi is running late.

He comes out after another few minutes, one finger still in the back of one of his shoes as he pulls them on. 

Coming out to the street, the big slice of shokupan hanging out of his teeth gets pulled in half. He keeps the half he was biting and hands the other half to Aone.

With a little huff of a laugh, Aone takes it with a nod of his head.

“Good morning, Kenji-kun.”

“Morning, Takkun.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to retweet and share the fic, you can do so [HERE!](https://twitter.com/likeabomb_/status/1371907114600263680?s=20)


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